Black Rabbits and Red Roses
by Anastacia-Gwydion
Summary: When Draco has to have remedial Transfiguration lessons, Head Girl Hermione isn't the only fiesty Gryffindor he ends up spending time with...
1. Chapter One

**Black Rabbits and Red Roses**

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling not me etc etc etc

A/N: I should state firstly that this is pure fluff. Secondly that it may seem like a Hermione/Draco story but it isn't. Thirdly that part of it was inspired by a few snippets from one of my other 'on hiatus' stories. Right – read on and (hopefully) enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter One**

Ginevra Weasley wasn't actually present during the moment that would change her life. She was in the library, apologising profusely to Madam Pince for spilling red ink over _Sonnets of a Sorcerer_. The people who were present during 'the-moment-that-would-change-Ginevra-Weasley's-life' were the people who were always present on these occasions: Harry Potter, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. Harry and Ron had started their dinner, as Hermione had been kept behind by Professor McGonagall after Transfiguration class. The boys couldn't help but grin a little at the panic stricken look she'd given them, obviously fearing that her latest essay hadn't received full marks. Ron, however, was willing to bet his yorkshire pudding that it was simply more "head girl business". Since being given the post, Hermione's workload had practically doubled as she took on more and more in an effort to live up to her job. Many people had been surprised (while the Slytherins had been amused) that Dumbledore had passed Harry up for the role of head boy, choosing instead the more reliable Hufflepuff Justin Finch-Fletchley. Harry was privately rather pleased at not being offered the post, having seen how little time it would have left him to train for Quidditch, let alone do his homework.

Just as they were finishing their roasts, Hermione entered the Great Hall, looking fraught. For a brief moment Harry wondered whether she really had received a 9/10, but on closer inspection she appeared simply annoyed, rather than distraught. She spotted them at walked briskly over.

"You'll never guess," she stated, sliding in beside Ron on the bench, "Professor McGonagall has asked me to give Malfoy remedial Transfiguration lessons."

"She's _what_?" Harry and Ron chorused.

"I know; I'm not looking forward to it at all, but at least it'll be like revision for me."

"This is _brilliant_!" Harry enthused, and he actually got up and did a little jig around the table, "Malfoy has to have remedial lessons! He'll never live it down!"

"I did think you might have a little more sympathy for _me_," replied Hermione coldly, "And anyway, I'm supposed to keep it quiet."

"Does Malfoy know yet?"

"No," said Hermione grimly, "But I'll be willing to bet that he won't learn quietly."

"When's your first lesson?" Ron asked, failing to hide the grin enveloping his face.

"This evening at eight."

Harry and Ron glanced conspiratorially at each other before Hermione noticed and interrupted.

"And don't even think about trying to crash it to get at Malfoy."

* * *

Hermione was waiting at McGonagall's desk when Draco entered the classroom, leaving the heavy door slightly ajar. She was poring over her Transfiguration notes and fiddling with her wand nervously.

"Hello Granger" Draco said grumpily.

"Malfoy," she nodded curtly, in an extraordinarily good impression of McGonagall.

"Can we get on with this?" he drawled, "I've got to wash my hair."

She faced him, brandishing her notes, refusing to be drawn into his goading.

"I thought we'd start quite simply with some third year stuff. Professor McGonagall said there's nothing wrong with your knowledge; it's the practical stuff you've got to worry about."

Draco snarled at her. She raised an eyebrow and couldn't resist saying; "The Professor has told you that I'm allowed to give and take points from you?"

Draco snarled again.

She smiled, "Right, well, I thought we could start with transfiguring rabbits into slippers – you remember that one?"

"Have you got any rabbits on you?" he sneered. He was getting good at this – only a little more practice and he'd be up to his father's standard.

Hermione waved her wand and conjured a white fluffy rabbit from mid-air.

Draco resisted the impulse to gape at the fact she could perform a conjuring spell.

"It's white." He said stiffly.

She waved her wand impatiently and the rabbit turned black. "Better?"

"How did you get its eyes to go that red colour?" Draco asked curiously.

"Thought you might prefer them that way."

"Humph"

Hermione figured that was closest she'd get to a 'Thanks'. She was thinking, "Christ, this was going to be a long two hours" at the precise moment when Ginny Weasley fell unceremoniously through the classroom door.

* * *

What did you think? You know what I think? I think that it's really tempting to press the little button saying 'review'...


	2. Chapter Two

**Black Rabbits and Red Roses**

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling not me etc etc etc

A/N: Thanks for the feedback on chappie one! V exciting... Hopefully this one will be longer...

**Chapter Two**

After serving a rather nasty detention for Madam Pince, where she had to dust the bookshelves and clean the floor of the library without magic, Ginny had thought to let off a bit of steam with Dean. They weren't actually going out anymore, since Ginny had got tired of him over the holidays, but she had kept a 'rapport' of sorts with him, for whenever she needed to vent her sexual frustration. Dean wasn't complaining.

Don't go thinking of Ginny as a slut – she was discerning in picking her guys – they couldn't have acne and they couldn't take themselves seriously. And they couldn't be shorter than her.

So, back to Dean. They had been on their way to find a quiet broom closet somewhere, snogging and fumbling at each other's clothes. Dean's shirt was unbuttoned and Ginny's bra had been discarded on the corridor floor as Dean frantically slid his hands underneath her polo top. Ginny leant passionately back against a hefty wooden door. She hadn't grasped the fact that the door was ajar...

* * *

As Ginny attempted to hoist herself up and, more importantly, hoist her skirt down, she realised that every last shred of her dignity had probably fled at that moment. She stood up precariously on her worn stilettos and found herself being stared at by the two worst people in the world who could have seen her in such a situation – Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy. Oh, great. And to make it worse, Dean decided to stumble into view, his fly still unzipped.

Malfoy broke the unpleasant silence first.

"Good Lord, Thomas, I knew you were a Gryffindor, but I didn't think even you would scrape the barrel with a weasel."

Dean turned an interesting shade of beetroot and tried to mumble some sort of witty reply. It was Ginny who cut him off:

"Well at least I'm getting some, which is more than you're doing in your remedial transfiguration, Malfoy. You see, worn robes don't count for an awful lot once you're not wearing anything. Clearly what's underneath your designer clothing isn't worth the hassle of all the unzipping."

She nodded at Hermione, "Hello Herm, thought we'd liven up your lesson a little – thought you might be getting bored of all the tired 'mudblood' insults by now. Really must be going though – see you around."

And with that, she turned on her heal and stalked out of the classroom, looking for all the world as if she was calm and collected, rather than the seething mass of anger and humiliation boiling up inside her.

Dean stared after her retreating body for a few seconds before turning to the stunned pair: "Yeah... well. Like Gin said – see you around, I guess."

As soon as he caught up with her, Ginny turned suddenly and prodded him viciously in the chest, "And next time I get insulted, Thomas, I expect you to be defending my honour with witty comebacks instead of stammering like a Hufflepuff!"

* * *

Back in the Transfiguration classroom, there were a few seconds of stunned silence before Hermione walked slowly to the door and shut it firmly. Draco whistled quietly: the last time he'd encountered Weasley she'd hexed him into oblivion with a bat bogey and kneed him in a rather sensitive area of the anatomy to boot. Clearly her change for the bolder hadn't slackened. He'd heard her named as a fitty even amongst some of the Slytherins (although they said it very quietly), but had never really seen it until she'd replied to his put-down. She was more athletic than slim: a trim body with slender, well built legs and well developed thighs that any man would dream of being between and breasts not large, but pert and rounded. Her hair – her hair would always be a downfall, he reasoned: even if it was long and thick and silky, it would always be that horrid shade of brassy red. Her freckles, too, peppered her nose and cheeks in ample quantities, and her eyes were a disgustingly plain shade of brown. Average, he thought to himself – decidedly average. It was only when Hermione cleared her throat loudly that Draco realised he had been thinking about the Weasley girl for an embarrassingly long amount of time. He made up for the temporary shame by being particularly difficult for the remainder of the lesson.

* * *

Dean Thomas tried to sit next to Ginny in the Hall the next morning, but she was having none of it. Instead, she loudly invited Harry to sit there, and spent the remainder of the meal flirting with the oblivious Boy-Who-Lived. Hermione raised an eyebrow but said nothing in front of Ron, much to Ginny's relief. She had just met up with Colin and Luna – her regular fellows in crime and lessons – to head up for Astronomy, when a loud voice reverberated across the corridor, "Weasley! I think you left something behind last night."

She turned to watch in horror as Malfoy produced a skimpy, see-through, lacey red bra.

"I believe this belongs to you?" he smirked.

* * *

What did you think? You know what I think? I think that it's really tempting to press the little button saying 'review'...

Just a couple of thank yous:

**Katie Moffat** – Hope this is more of a taster!

**August1** – I'm just getting the hang of writing longer chapters – it's tricky since I have a very busy life at University so don't get much time to write, so it's so much easier so do little snippets.

**Stokes** – thanks! Hopefully this chappie's just as well spelt and grammatical :)


	3. Chapter Three

Black Rabbits and Red Roses 

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling not me etc etc etc

A/N: Thanks for the feedback on the beginning of the story. I know it's taken me a stupidly long time to update, but in my defence I've been up to my ears in directing a play and doing all my essays on time for university, so I do have a reasonable excuse! In fact, right now I should be doing an essay on Metaphysical poets...

Chapter Three 

'Oh... Good... Lord...' Ginny thought, as the hundreds of people crowding the corridor turned to look between herself and the piece of clothing that really should either be underneath her clothes or in a private area of her dormitory. A number of plans, nearly all of which involved Malfoy, a wand, and either or both of his nostrils, ran through her mind before she dismissed them. Instead, she did the only thing she could do in such a circumstance – try to humiliate Malfoy right back. She walked calmly up to him, plucked the bra from his grasp, and smiled politely.

"Thanks, Draco," she purred, "I didn't realise you wanted to go public."

She watched in satisfaction as Malfoy's eyes widened in horror. She decided to continue – the chance was too good to miss:

"I felt so intimate with you last night. You shared so much with me that I'll never forget – showing me your cuddly teddy bear, and reading that poetry. Wonderfully romantic."

Slipping the bra discreetly into her schoolbag, she tripped off, thinking 1-0 to the Whizzing Ginny.

It was two hours later, and Draco was still storming around the Slytherin Common Room in one of his famous Malfoy rages. The rest of the students had quite wisely decided to leave him on his own for a while. He found this intensely irritating, as it provided him without a soul to vent his anger on. About an hour ago a first year had mistakenly walked through the entrance, and had rapidly been redirected by a few well aimed hexes.

"How dare she?!" He shouted to the empty room, "Imagine me – a Malfoy – shagging a Weasley! Urgh, don't – I want to gag."

What was annoying him the most was his complete inability to not think about the way her voice had dropped a level to the sultry voice she'd used on him earlier. The way her cheeks had flushed slightly but never betrayed her humiliation, only added colour to her otherwise pale skin. The way her hand caressed his own as she took the bra from him. The damned way he kept wondering if she was all those things in bed –sexy, gentle, confident. He suspected that she was, from the look of her underwear, which only made the fact that she was a Weasley more infuriating. "Forbidden fruit", he muttered to himself, and it became a sort of mantra for the next hour, as he pondered touching her naked breasts. Until Blaise Zabini marched into the common room, that is, and put an end to all of Malfoy's erotic thoughts.

"She snogged me!" Blaise cried triumphantly, to Crabbe and Goyle, who followed him.

"Oh Lord, Zabini," Malfoy drawled, "Which little tart did you manage to feel up this time?"

"Oh," Blaise smiled casually, "Just the fiery little redhead you stole the underwear from last night."

"You mean the Weasley?" Malfoy asked sharply. Blaise nodded, a grin spreading over his face. He elaborated, "I've wanted to fuck her for months now, and finally I might just get the chance."

"What do you mean? You said you only kissed her."

"That was today – just now – Malfoy. I'm meeting her later tonight for a little rendezvous."

Draco scowled, "I'd better not find you two out too late or there'll be points taken from both houses."

Blaise's grin just widened, "Oh, but don't you have remedial transfiguration with the mudblood this evening?"

Draco's mood had not improved by the thought of the possibility of running in on the Weasel and Zabini doing unspeakable things in an empty classroom. In fact, he had been forced to resort to drastic measures: he had told Pansy to wait up for him. Pansy, in all fairness, was not bad looking. She had a good figure, and hours every morning and evening spent slathering creams, makeup and other feminine mysteries all over her face meant that she had a good complexion and could even look pretty on demand. Her parents' vast sums of money didn't go amiss, either, in buying her perfectly fitting designer robes. No, Pansy in appearance was fine. She was, however, possibly the easiest girl at Hogwarts, although Ginny Weasley could give her a run for her money, Draco thought moodily. He stormed into the transfiguration classroom only to be met by the most unfortunate sight of Hermione talking to the last person he wanted to see – the Weasel herself. They turned round at the sound of footsteps. Draco sneered in an attempt to regain his dignity from that morning:

"Checked you've got all your clothes on this time, Weasley?"

She didn't even have the grace to blush, "Yep," he replied chirpily, "And none of them are in a twist, like some of yours seem to be."

"Ginny," Hermione whispered warningly.

"I'll be going then," Ginny said, and walked towards the door.

"Going to fuck Zabini, now, Weasley? Thomas not enough for you?" Draco snarled.

Ginny stopped and turned around slowly, "I beg your pardon?" she said, fixing him with a glare that could have frozen Voldemort himself at 50 feet.

"Why so shocked? Zabini told me all about your little arrangement for this evening. For some girls I suppose prostitution is the only way to get any money." He looked her up and down, "That is, if one could actually call you a girl."

"You bastard." Ginny breathed, "Trust a Malfoy to go that low. For your information, Zabini cornered me at lunch and made a most unwelcome attempt to thrust his hand up my top. Next time you believe some git, do try to notice the large bruise which has undoubtedly by now risen over his left eye."

"He told me that was your brother," Draco said in genuine surprise, at the same time uncomfortable about how light his heart seemed to feel suddenly.

"No." Ginny enunciated, her jaw set, before walking out and shutting the door smartly behind her.

"Erm, well," Hermione put tentatively, "Shall we start?"

"Fine." Draco replied gruffly.

"Unless, "Hermione continued, smiling slightly, "You would prefer to try turning fiery redheaded girls into something a little less tempting?"

"Shut up, Granger."

What did you think? You know what I think? I think that it's really tempting to press the little button saying 'review'...

Just a couple of thank yous:

Dizzy Flower – Yay! One of my favourite authors reviewed me!

August1 – Thanks for coming back to review the next chapter! This one should be longer...

Katie Moffat – Cheers ï

Empty Teapot – I hope Ginny continues to please!


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